Guitar neck reset

I seem to feature a lot of 19th century guitars on this blog: here is another example. This was a recent restoration commission; the neck had pulled forward significantly resulting in an unplayable action. This is a common problem encountered on old guitars.

The guitar is by Valance, a French maker working in the first half of the 19th century, and is typical of guitars of this period, the back and sides are of flamed maple, the front of spruce and all the details are ebony and ivory. Aesthetically it is typical of many of these French guitars with a simple rosette, figure of eight headstock and elegant smiling bridge.

This guitar had been restored at some point in the past ( the evidence points to the back having been removed) but was still in lovely condition and the owner was not unreasonably anxious about the major work to be undertaken.

Of all the neck joins used in guitar construction, this is possibly the simplest. The neck itself is made of 3 main parts, the headstock, the main shaft of the neck and then a separate triangular heel, with the grain running at 90 degrees to the neck itself. This is commonly referred to as an 'ice-cream cone heel'. The neck is joined with a simple butt-join; no dovetail or mortise, just 2 carefully fitted surfaces and animal glue. It seems an incredibly precarious method of attaching a neck, but this one had remained solidly glued for nearly 200 years and the reason for the neck reset was not due to a failing in the neck itself, but a distortion in the body, possibly caused by the previous restoration.

In order to gain access to the neck join it was necessary to remove a small portion of the spruce that made up the flush fingerboard. Hide glue is perhaps the easiest glue to disassemble and the inlays came apart easily as can be seen in the picture below. The neck join itself however proved more challenging, partly because I was being so careful not to damage the beautiful and original finish.In the end it took 7 hours of painstaking work to remove this neck; patience was the most valuable tool in the workshop that day.

The job of realigning the neck is simple, in theory at least. A small amount of wood is removed from the heel to adjust the overall neck/body geometry and the action and alignment are constantly checked. The neck is reglued to the body and the fingerboard section and inlay reinstalled.
This guitar was fitted with gut rather than nylon strings and it was lovely to have it restrung and properly playable again. The only sign that any work had been done was that the action and saddle were now at the correct height!

French guitar restoration

This guitar was a recent restoration commission, which I have now finished and returned to its owner. It was made in Mirecourt in northern France in 1880 in the Cherpetal workshop. It has to be said that late 19th century guitars are not in the same league as some of those instruments from the first half of the century. This particular guitar is quite robustly built and lacks the constructional delicacy of many earlier guitars; consequently the guitar is quieter and less resonant than one would wish for. However, when I lifted this guitar from its case I was struck by the pleasing ornamentation, the plain but attractive satinwood back and sides and the astonishingly bad repair that had been carried out to the bridge! The bridge had come off at some point and had been glued back roughly into place and then screwed onto the soundboard for good measure. The bridge and the surrounding soundboard had then been painted over with a thick black paste in an attempt to disguise the damage. The rest of the guitar was in fair condition; a small section of ebony binding loose and in need of reglueing, an ugly top split and the obligatory loose soundboard brace. Oh, and the table and back and sides had been crudely overfinished.

The picture above shows the loose ebony binding on the base end of the guitar.

This picture shows the bridge before restoration. I never did quite work out what that black finish was but it certainly lacked finesse. You can just make out some of the screws that have been installed in an attempt to stop it from parting company with the soundboard. The original bridge was found to be too badly damaged to consider re-using so an ebony replacement was made in the same style.

This stamp was found on the underside of the soundboard, along with the date and signatures of some of the craftsmen of the workshop. It is always good to find this information inside a guitar.
To my delight the overfinish came off beautifully leaving a lovely flat and original  original finish. The overfinish appeared to be some sort of shellac and was painstakingly removed with alcohol soaked swabs.

  

2 pictures of the finished guitar.

Old guitar cases can be time capsules. An old paper bag from a musical instrument shop in Burton on Trent contained packets of strings including  these 'Cathedral' strings. The packet proudly boasts 'British Music and Tennis Strings'!

French guitar restoration part 1

This guitar came in a few weeks ago and has given me considerable pleasure to work on. It was clear, as soon as the case was opened, that the guitar had been considerably altered as is so often the case with vintage guitars. At some point the headstock had been broken off, and had been replaced by a rather inappropriate substitute, complete with unusually mounted modern tuners. The bridge had pulled away and had been replaced by a modern classical guitar bridge which, in turn, had failed. A new fingerboard had also been fitted but, just visible on the soundboard, were the ebony fret inserts that showed this guitar originally had a flush fingerboard. (See the photograph below.)




At some point in the past, I was told, the guitar had been taken out to Libya (there is an evocative luggage label from Tripoli on the case) and the hot, dry desert air had caused the guitar to dry out, resulting in some large splits in the top and back.

It was decided that I should take the restoration as far as I deemed appropriate, but that it should certainly be restored to a playing condition. This guitar has had many different incarnations and has been repaired and adapted according to circumstances. At this stage, I feel that the most appropriate course of action is to restore it, as near as possible, to its original state.





My first task was to try and close the top and back splits by re-hydrating the guitar. In theory, subjecting a guitar to a moist environment should swell the timber and close the cracks. However, sometimes other distortions and tensions prevent this from happening. As I write this, the splits have lessened but not closed completely.




It was only after the guitar had been in the workshop a few days that a close inspection of the interior revealed a very indistinct makers stamp, located on the upper treble side lining at the waist. Although unclear, the stamp is that of F. Roudhloff, a well known French maker from Mirecourt. Francois was the brother of Charles Roudhloff (and not the son, as sometimes believed) and uncle of Dominic and Arnould Roudhloff, who also made guitars.

I removed the old headstock and made a new figure of 8 head, based on that of the C.Roudhloff instrument. The pictures below show part of that process. A v-joint takes either 5 minutes or 5 hours to fit; this one took me 5 hours!

As can be seen from the picture below, the neck is veneered with fine, black ebony on a core of sycamore or possibly lime. The new head is sycamore and will be ebonised at the end of the restoration.




By some considerable coincidence, this week has seen a guitar by Charles Roudhloff in the workshop, so the temptation to photograph the two brothers' guitars together proved to much. The Charles Roudhloff, on the right, is a more ornate guitar with a moustachioed bridge and decorative binding.